


Six Feet Under the Stars

by Primarina (PastelBrachypelma)



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: (I haven't decided yet), (kinda), (possibly), Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boxing, Alternate Universe - Historical, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Fainting, Food, Gambling, M/M, Minor Violence, Not Beta Read, Poverty, Social Issues, because i mean with me you are always getting food, boxing violence, dan and arin are the same age, everyone calm down, everyone is quite young, hi i'm sylvie nice to meet you, it's kinda set in the eighties but, it's not incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-02-22 22:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13176297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBrachypelma/pseuds/Primarina
Summary: Dan Avidan has never been worth his salt until he learns to handle himself in a boxing ring.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title chosen by the lovely Amber (justmeandmyblg). It's from All Time Low, apparently. *shrugs*
> 
> This story may or may not include graphic violence, but I'm putting the warning up just in case. 
> 
> Also, it's kinda set in the fifties, but I also have no energy to set it strictly to one period, so...you may imagine it how you like.

Dan yawned, closing the magazine he was reading and folding it up to fan himself, leaning back on the rickety bar chair seated behind the till at Avidan’s Grocery. It was a hot summer in New York. All the papers were saying you could fry an egg on the sidewalk, and he was tempted to drag Dana out of her room to try it.

“Dan!”

Dan jumped, nearly falling off the stool. “Jesus, Avi! You scared me!”

His father glared at him over the rims of his glasses, narrowing his dark eyes slightly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just sitting down for a moment,” Dan protested, setting the magazine down on the counter with a loud slap. “It’s so hot, you could fry an egg on the sidewalk!”

Avi grumbled to himself in Hebrew and shuffled behind the counter, making a shooing motion at Dan. “Go and stand by the freezers, then! Some of us have to work for a living.”

Dan groaned. “Yes, father.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, adjusting his white apron, and headed to the back of the store where they kept the soda and the meats. Walking past all the snack foods on the shelves, it reminded him that he was hungry, and he’d promised to take Dana down to the soda shop after Avi closed up the grocery at six. 

His sister was probably busy sewing patches into his old torn jeans, or helping Debbie, their mother, with her small business mending delicate things like lace curtains and silk dresses. He sighed, opening one of the drink freezers, staring aimlessly at the rows of bottles lined up like soldiers as a blast of icy air surged out towards him, embracing the hot patches on the sides of his neck and his lower back. He was so useless he couldn’t even sweat properly, but, he supposed, Dana made up for it.

Unlike him, a poor student who had dropped out of high school due to disinterest and lack of ability, Dana was actually going places. Not only was she on track to graduate high school on time, but her teachers were adamant that she go on to college.

The only problem, of course, was that the Avidans could not afford to send Dana to college. And though his sister kindly insisted to their parents that it really didn’t matter, Dan knew the sadness lingering behind his sister’s eyes, and the wistfulness of which she always spoke of getting out from under the city smog in order to pursue her academic dreams. What she wanted to be when she grew up changed fairly often, but Dan wasn’t worried. 

He knew his sister was gonna be great. And he had to help her succeed…no matter what.

He was startled by the sound of the phone ringing up by the till, his knee jamming hard into the glass door of the fridge. Letting out a puff of warm air that materialized like smoke against the chill, he bent his head forward, his ratty, bird’s nest of curls encasing him on either side, closing his eyes as he listened.

Avi’s footsteps crossed the shop in a half-jog, full of precision, perfection, and purpose. Three things he would always associate with his father, and was always reminded that, no matter how hard he tried, he could never be. There was the distinct chuh-unk of the phone being removed from its place, and Avi held it up to his ear. “Avidan’s Grocery. Oh, hello, Deb.” A pause. “Mmhmm. Yes. Yes, he’s here.” Another pause, and Dan could hear Avi’s aborted words, little half-gasps as he tried to respond that failed as Debbie got out her thoughts. “Okay. Yes. Mmhmm, I’ll send him up. Goodbye.” The chuh-unk again, and then his father’s clear voice: “Dan! Your mother wants you upstairs!”

“Yesss,” Dan pumped his fist in silent victory and let the fridge door shut with a resounding thunk. Without saying anything to his father, only giving a possibly sarcastic wave, Dan slipped into the back room that also served as their basement, and dashed up the stairs two at a time, bursting through the door into the kitchen, his threadbare sneakers squeaking against the freshly waxed linoleum. 

“Hi, Doobles!”

“Leigh Daniel, you take your shoes off this instant!” Debbie scolded, though she was smiling. Dan had always got along well with his mother, though that was likely down to the two of them having the same calm, easygoing spirit. “I just washed and waxed this floor!”

Dan fondly rolled his eyes, nevertheless toeing off his shoes and kicking them against the wall that led into the small living room-cum-dining area. Unlike his sister’s and mother’s shoes, Dan’s were haphazardly placed. 

“Thank you. Now,” Debbie handed Dan a plate that had seen better days that held several cheery slices of buttered bread, “go and deliver this to your sister. There’s enough for you to share.”

“Thanks, Debs,” Dan replied, giving a comical salute before heading over to the rounded, carpeted stairs that led to the small upper level of their house.

They were lucky to have a three-story house, as most shopkeepers barely earned enough to keep two. Avi had gotten lucky; he’d bought the old building while his mother was still pregnant with him, and had converted it from a multifamily to a grocer’s on the bottom floor, with the upper floors kept mostly as they were for a living space. 

There was a lot to dislike about the old house. The bedrooms were drafty in the winter, and the roof leaked all the way down to the floor below when heavy rains came in spring, but it was comfy and cozy and they had made it their home.

Dan tapped his knuckles softly on the door at the top of the stairs, the one he and Dana had shared for as long as he could remember. Upon not hearing any sort of warning that she wasn’t fully clothed, he slipped inside the room and closed the door. 

His sister sat at the writing desk at the window between the two beds, bent over what looked to be a ladies’ shawl. Her sewing basket was open on the desk, and a spool of thread had ran away from her, just a few inches from going under his bed, never to be seen again. Dan set the plate on Dana’s bed before stooping down with a grunt to fetch the runaway spool, placing it safely back into the basket.

“Thanks,” Dana said without looking up from her stitches. “I’ve just got to finish this line while I can see it. I’ll be with you in a mo.”

“No hurry. More bread and butter for me.” Dan grinned cheekily as Dana snorted, swiping a piece of bread from the plate and diving back onto his bed, the springs creaking under his weight, sighing in satisfaction. He folded the bread slightly between his fingers before chomping into the simple treat, closing his eyes in bliss at the taste of salted butter (a rare treat, seeing as it was slightly more expensive than its unsalted cousin) exploding onto his tongue, groaning as he swallowed.

“Amah got salted butter?” Dana asked, shifting the shawl on her lap and reaching for her scissors to snip the thread so she could tie it off.

“Yep!” Dan replied, taking another huge bite of bread, glancing over at her as she folded up the shawl and tucked her needle away. “Is that for one of Deb’s clients?”

Dana nodded as she stretched from the chair to her bed for her own share of the buttery treat. “Mrs. Tolvaj needed her best shawl repaired for an event tomorrow, and Amah couldn’t get it done in time, so she asked me to do it. Speaking of which,” Dana shoved the rest of her bread inelegantly into her mouth, brushing the crumbs off on her skirt, “I ought to run it over for Amah right now, before I forget.”

“I’ll go with ya,” Dan said, sitting up, his bread long gone. 

“I can go alone,” Dana replied, standing up and adjusting her stockings. “You must be tired from working with Abba.”

Dan shook his head. “I’m all right for now. Besides, I promised I’d take you to the soda shop for ice cream.” He jumped up off the bed, swiping up his second slice of bread and butter and taking a bite, lifting the other one for his sister.

“All right, but you’re not going in your apron.” Dana tutted fondly. “Here. Tilt your head forward.” She reached up to unknot the apron from around his neck, and then again at his lower back, catching it before it fell to the ground and setting it on the bed. “Now,” she said, folding the scarf over her arm and leaning over to take her slice of bread out of Dan’s grip with her mouth, “lesth go.”

Dan grinned, checking to see if he had his pocket change, before following his sister out of their room, dashing down the stairs after her. It was a race to see who could put their shoes on first. Dan beat Dana by virtue of the buckles on her shoes, rushing down the stairs to the shop like the Devil was after him, Dana’s light footsteps following behind.

Laughing like children, they zoomed down the aisles of the grocery, weaving between startled patrons, calling to their father as they passed.

“Bye, Abba!”

“Later, Avi!”

By the time the door closed, the bell tinkling behind them, the two siblings were out of breath. Laughing, they bumped shoulders as they headed down the street towards old Mrs. Toljav’s place.


	2. Chapter 2

Dan slurped a bit of ice cream off his cone noisily, chasing it with his tongue as he swallowed, muffling a belch into his wrist and giggling like a first grader. His eyes drifted over to Dana, because she’d usually be laughing, too. But Dana was just pensively licking her chocolate cone, thinking.

Dan inhaled the rest of his own chocolate ice cream, taking a big bite into the crunchiness of the wafer cone, hearing that satisfactory crunch that seemed to be the soundtrack of summer, and hooked his ankles against the bar stool. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

Dana shrugged. “I’m just thinkin.” She inhaled a fair bit of her ice cream, rolling it around on her tongue before she swallowed. “I graduate high school next year.”

Dan nodded. He understood Dana’s dreams of grandeur. He’d had them himself when he was her age. He had wanted to start a band, play in small bars until he was whisked off to sunny Los Angeles, where the babes were hot and the scene was hotter. He’d dreamed once of being a famous rock star, selling out shows, playing to adoring crowds that sang his lyrics back to him. But he’d had to face reality a long time ago. He was a failure. 

Dana, though, was not.

“Yeah,” Dan said, after realizing he’d not spoken for a while. One year of cigarettes had dashed his singing career, and another year seeing Mary Jane had made him spacy, lazy, and good for nothing. He envied perfect little Dana and her sobriety sometimes.

Dana sighed, crunching into her cone. “I wanna get outta the city, Dan. I wanna see cows—actual cows!” Dan snorted. “I wanna breathe clean country air, and see flowers that bloom in the grass instead of in pots on balconies. I wanna look up at night and see a sky shining bright with stars.”

“I know,” Dan replied, wrapping an arm around Dana’s shoulder as she leaned against him, shivering in the cold soda shop. (He was shivering, too, and he knew she could feel it from where she lay against him.) “You’ll get there, kid. I just know it.”

Silence. Even the heavy weight of a silver dollar in each of their pockets, “a bit of spending money” from Mrs. Tolvaj, they both knew getting Dana out of the city and off to study at college cost more than a measly two dollars.

“I know I can make it at college,” Dana said. “That’s what’s frustrating. I can get a good job, with good money, and I can get Abba and Amah out of that rickety old slumlord reject of a house and bring them out to the cool, crisp air of the country.”

Dan nodded, rubbed his hand against her arm to warm it. She wrapped an arm around his waist, tracing a nonsense pattern into his faded tee shirt. He leaned over to kiss the top of her forehead. “I promise, Dana. I’m gonna help you get outta here.”

Dana smiled up at him. “I love you, Danny.”

Dan smiled down at her. “I love you, too, kid.” He kissed her forehead. “I mean it, okay? I promise I’m gettin ya to college, or I’m gonna die trying.”

“What about you?” Dana’s dark eyes searched his. “What will you do? What about becoming a rock star?”

Dan waved a hand. “’S okay. I gave up on that long ago. Someone’s gotta stay with our parents, protect em from thieves and whatnot.” He smiled at Dana again. “I’m hopeless, kid. You, though. You’re goin somewhere.”

Dana hugged him suddenly, burrowing her face into his chest. “I don’t think you’re hopeless,” she mumbled into his shirt. “You’re gonna be something, too, one day.”

Dan sighed, patting Dana’s back and letting her hold onto him for a moment. Then, he pulled away. “We’d better get home. Avi and Debbie are gonna call the police.”

Dana laughed, and laced her fingers with Dan’s.

Even though they hadn’t held hands like that since they were kids, Dan let her hold his hand until they reached the door of Avidan’s Grocery.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan snuck away after dinner. He’d barely cleaned his plate, mind too busy to care about feeding his body. Dana looked so sad these days. Being Debbie’s seamstress wasn’t gonna make her happy, and it was up to him to do it.

But how?

Dan rummaged through his drawers, looking for his emergency cigarettes. Quitting wasn’t exactly quitting; he’d managed to hold onto half a pack that he rationed out for emergencies. Like this one, when he needed to think. He could hear the murmur of conversation downstairs, his parents and Dana laughing, having a good time. He wanted more for her than this.

Success! Dan’s eager fingers closed around a cigarette, his other hand finding the lighter. He didn’t want Dana to know his guilty secret, so he climbed up, in his old socks, onto his bed, fiddling with the window, holding the cigarette between his teeth. He slid the window open after a moment, grunting with the effort it took to get the sticky thing to move, and climbed out onto the roof.

Here, the sky was as clear as a New York sky can get. Dark blue, lit by streetlamps at the corners, just enough that you can’t see the stars. Dan lit up and pocketed the lighter.

The streets were quieting down. A few people passed by in robotic, dreamy dazes. Cats and dogs dug through trash. A homeless beggar got off the corner and shambled off towards the park to find a bench to sleep on.

Dan blew his smoke out into the night, failing to notice he’d left the door open, and failing to hear his little sister climb out.

“You said you gave up smoking,”

Dan jumped, nearly losing his balance. “Jesus, Dana! You almost made me fall off the roof!”

Dana giggled. “Sorry.” She was wearing her dress from today, the orange one that looked a bit like a Hawaiian shirt, but had let down her hair from her high ponytail. It came down in waves on her thin shoulders, her long legs ending in a pair of socks. His socks, to be exact.

Dan snorted, shook his head. “You’re gonna rip your stockings and your dress, Banana.”

“Am not. ‘Sides, I took my stockings off before I came out here.” Dana shuffled closer to her brother. “Let me take a drag.”

“What happened to you being a good kid?” He passed the cigarette to her, watching her draw it into her lungs perfectly.

“It’s not my first. I smoked one time with the punks out back at school.” Dana blew the smoke out into the summer air, watching it dissipate over the rooftop below them. 

“Wow. Next thing you know, you’ll be wearing leather like me.”

Dana snickered and elbowed him, then handed back the cigarette so he could have a turn. “I wish you’d go back to school. Graduate with me. You could, you know. You almost made it.”

Dan shook his head. “Avi needs me at the grocery now. He’s getting on in years, can’t do it all on his own.” He took a drag, passing it back to her. “Don’t worry about me. Just get through this year.”

“I don’t want you to hate me, though,” Dana watched the cigarette burn between her fingers for a minute. “For doing something you couldn’t.”

Dan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “That’s not gonna happen. I want you to be happy because you’re my sister, and I’d do anything for ya.”

“I know,” Dana sighed, snuggling into his chest, “but…”

“No buts.” Dan looked down at her. “I promise, Banana. I’m not gonna hate you. Okay?”

Dana ground the cigarette out on the roof and threw it away. “Okay.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him for a minute.

They held each other under the barely-visible stars before letting go, but still remaining close.

“Don’t smoke anymore, Dan,” Dana tilted her head against his shoulder. “I’m afraid you’ll get back into the fun of it, and I’ll lose you again.”

Dan curled his knees towards himself. “That’s past me now, Dana. I’m not gonna…”

“Promise me,” Dana whispered, her voice firm. “Promise me you won’t smoke anymore.”

Dan sighed gustily. “Sure, mom, I promise.”

“Good.” Dana tilted her head up to look at him. “Then I’ll mend your socks.”

“Why do my socks need mending?”

“I…may have ripped this pair climbing out of the window.”

Dan pretended to be mad for a full minute before he started laughing.

Yeah. They were gonna be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry these chapters are so short...I'm doing my best here.


	4. Chapter 4

“Danny?”

Dan groaned, rolling over in bed and flapping his long arms at the offender. It was much too early to even consider being awake.

“Danny, wake up! Can you walk me to school? I missed the bus.”

Dan groaned…but because he was a good brother, he started moving at a painfully slow pace, yawning and stretching, his bare feet touching the cool floor. Pants and then a tee shirt were thrown in his direction as Dan fumbled for his deodorant. He could feel Dana vibrating with impatience. Why did she have to be born a morning person? Why couldn’t she be a half-dead zombie in the morning like everyone else her age?

He rubbed his eyes. “You’ve got your school bag?”

“Yep!”

“And your ticket home? You need me to walk you?”

“Yeah. 3:15?”

“I’ll be there.” Dan yawned one last time, cringing at his own morning breath as he gave his teeth a quick once-over with the brush. If he still felt gross, he could brush his teeth properly when he got home. Avi didn’t usually need him in the grocery until 9.

When he came out of the bathroom, Dana had her bag slung over her shoulder, a worn carrot-orange tee shirt half tucked into a brown plaid skirt that fell to a place on her thighs that was probably just school legal along with white knee-highs, her toes wriggling on the hardwood floor. The skirt and bag were new; no doubt from the yearly back-to-school shopping trip.

He smiled fondly. “Ready?”

Dana nodded. Her hair was in loose pigtails, two long pleats hanging down off her shoulders. The tee shirt’s hem was slipping off her shoulder, showing off her colorful pink bra strap. But from the front, you couldn’t tell.

She opened the door and trotted down the stairs, her new backpack bouncing up and down with every movement. It was big and empty and had a neon orange leopard print design interlaced with black velvet. So hip. Dan stifled a laugh, considering the first tee shirt Dana had gotten her hands on to give to him was a plain white tee shirt only good for wearing under his leather jacket, which it was too hot for.

The remaining days of summer had gone by in a blur, equal parts a whirlwind of preparation as Debbie readied Dana for school, mending everything that had a hole or two in it, replacing everything that was beyond repair and Avi organized shipments of fall staples, like canned pumpkin and seasonal candy for Halloween, and lazy, boiling-lava-hot days common of late summer, where the only thing Dan and Dana could really do was sit in front of the freezers, pulling up their shorts (or in Dana’s case, skirts) past their thighs so their skin could rest on the cool tile, playing Old Maid or Slap Jack with an old card deck, drinking cold soda after cold soda until their bellies and bladders were full to bursting.

Before they knew it, the school year was starting and with it, the first hints of fall. The city still held onto the heat of August, the tall concrete hugging the streets below, pressing in on the citizens, but every so often, a breeze would blow through, bringing with it the feel of autumn, even if the leaves had yet to even think about changing color.

Dan and Dana slipped their shoes on, Dan’s sneakers that were torn up along the sides and were a bit tight in the toes and would need replacing soon, and Dana’s scuffed-to-hell Mary Janes that pretty much went with anything. Dan felt bad, because Dana hadn’t gotten a new pair of shoes since she was twelve and had her last growth spurt. Her feet hadn’t changed their size since then, and her shoes were faithful old soldiers, but it seemed Dan’s feet were still growing, to his dismay.

It wasn’t fair. Dana deserved new shoes, too. Dan knew that some of the popular girls laughed at her “ugly baby shoes.” She hadn’t said as much out loud, but he’d seen the glares during the times he’d picked her up in the past. But that was the price you paid when you lived in a poor family. Oh well.

Silently, the teens crept down the creaky stairs into the closed shop. Avi was probably awake by now, but he wouldn’t be too happy to find out Dana had missed the bus, since it cost money to be on the bus route. As soon as they were outside, Dan took Dana’s hand, and they hoofed it for a quarter of a block until they were out of sight. Then, they slowed, and started walking.

“You gonna be late for school, Banana?”

Dana glanced at her watch. “Don’t think so. We should make it there on time.”

Dan nodded, pocketing his hands. Dana bumped into his shoulder playfully, and he bumped her back, making her giggle in delight. It reminded them both of a time when they’d gone to school together, walking from Avidan’s Grocery all the way to the local public school, holding hands or playing little games, like “Don’t Step on the Crack” and “Hydrant Patrol,” which was basically like tag, except they had to find and tag every fire hydrant they passed on the way. Not the most sanitary of games, but what kid isn’t a walking pile of germs on any given day?

They were about halfway to Dana’s school, passing the time in a familiar sibling silence, the comfort of being with someone who knows you just about as well as you know yourself, who has been your ally from day one, and who will love you unconditionally for the rest of your life…even if you were squabbling over bathroom privileges the night before, when Dana’s stomach growled loudly.

Dan turned to look at her immediately. “You didn’t eat breakfast?”

Dana shook her head. “I was trying to catch the bus. I’ll be fine.” She smiled, though it fell a bit flat. Dan hummed.

Two days ago, Avi had announced that the family was going to be short on funds for a few days until his new shipments came in. Between paying for stock and school necessities for Dana, there was really only a little bit of emergency cash left. And though Debbie tried to make satisfying meals, Dan and Dana had both gone to bed wishing they could’ve had seconds.

He shook his head. “That’s not an option, Dana. You can’t go to school on an empty stomach! You need your energy.”

“Danny, it’s fine,” Dana protested. “Lots of kids do it.”

“Those kids aren’t my sister.” Dan pulled out the coins he had found in his pocket, counting them on his palm. It was just enough for a piece of fruit from one of the stands and, just their luck, a food stand was coming up. He clasped his fist over the coins and, before Dana could protest, he tugged her backpack strap, pulling her over to the stand. “Hi, mister. Could I get an orange, please?”

The unimpressed worker grabbed a sweet, juicy orange from the cooler at his feet. “Sixty-nine cents, please.”

Dana giggled behind her fingers as Dan produced the needed coins. He was left with two pennies, which he offered the man as a tip, before handing the cool and slightly damp orange over to Dana. “Thank you, sir. Have a nice day!” He smiled, waving cheerfully, and then he and Dana were on their way, Dan looking out for obstacles while Dana peeled the orange, tossing the peels into the alleys for the strays.

Dana popped a slice into her mouth and chewed. “Mmmm,” she purred in satisfaction.

“Good?” Dan wet his lips. He couldn’t help being hungry; the orange looked so fresh and crisp.

Dana nodded, holding out a slice. “Here. Try it.”

“Dana,” Dan scolded, “it’s your breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Dana said smartly, “so I can share if I wanna. Besides, fifty cents says you’re gonna tell Abba you went out to get breakfast from a stand if he asks, cause you’re not gonna rat me out. So.” She wriggled the slice in the air.

Dan laughed, taking the slice from her. “I hate how you know me so well, Bana.” He popped the slice in his mouth, feeling the citrus flavor explode across his tongue, swallowing the juices eagerly as he chewed. Fresh fruit was such a fucking treat.

Dana rolled her eyes, handing him another slice. In this way, they’d finished the orange just as they reached the school.

Dana launched herself at Dan, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thanks for walking me,” she murmured into his neck, “and not ratting me out to Abba. You’re the best brother ever.”

Dan smiled gently, wrapping his arms around his sister and giving her a brief but tight squeeze. “No sweat. It’s what brothers do.” He released her, and she stepped back. “Now, go on, get! Before you’re late!” He shoved her gently as she turned her back on him, making her squeal. “I’ll see ya at 3:15!”

Dana twisted around, waving. “Bye, Danny!”

Dan gave a short wave, and stood watching her until she disappeared into the school amidst the other walkers (the kids who walked to school…duh), then, he turned around and walked back, curling his tongue into his back teeth to try and get a rind out from between his molars. 

He stretched and checked his watch. No doubt by now, Avi was wondering where he’d run off to, and would probably chastise him for being late back. Oh well. Avi could bark like the fiercest guard dog, but on the inside, he’d never hurt a fly. And he was only trying to make Dan into a responsible adult.

Good fucking luck…but bless him for trying.

Dan found a rock to kick and started dribbling it like a soccer ball, whistling a Rush song as he went. The city was starting to wake up around him, cars populating the streets, mailmen and milkmen out making deliveries, butchers and bakers advertising their wares using the highly effective “something smells good” marketing technique. Dan was glad to be fortified with half an orange; otherwise he’d stand gaping at honey-roasted hams sitting plump and juicy in butcher shop windows along his route home. (Just because his family ate kosher didn't mean he wasn't tempted every now and then.)

Dan kicked his rock a bit too far. Cursing, he trotted after it, toeing it out from the base of a brick staircase. From inside, he could hear the grunts of exertion from several men. He looked up, noticing that it seemed to be a gym of some kind. A specialized gym, from the looks of it.

Curious enough that it would probably get him killed one day, Dan hoofed it up the stairs, hoping he could slip into the building unnoticed. He trailed behind an extremely built, Olympic weightlifter type, and entered the gym unseen. Phew!

…and was “phew” ever the right word, though perhaps for a different reason entirely. The air inside the gym was stale and coated with the telltale stench of human body odor. Dan’s nose wrinkled, but nevertheless, he made his way further inside. He’d been right about this being a specialty gym. It definitely looked like a boxing club; punching bags standing on the ground and hanging from the air could be found in the open area, with lockers and a changing room off to the side. Beyond, several boxing rings were set up.

Dan scuttled around training boxers and looked up into the rings in awe. Men were sparring, punching each other and seeming to dance around to dodge. He even saw a few women, huddled in one ring by themselves, taking turns sparring each other. Seemed they were better fit to share; made sense.

Dan saw an office with a clear glass window and a wooden door with a name plaque on it that he couldn’t read from this distance. Inside, a silver-haired gentleman with big busy eyebrows and a frown on his face was lounging, reading the paper. Dan sprinted past, not wanting to get caught. There was a back door, leading out on the other side of the street, which was just a block away from the back door of his house. Just as he was about to push open the door, though, a brightly colored sign attracted his attention.

BOXING TOURNAMENT, it said. ALL WEIGHT CLASSES ALLOWED. CASH PRIZES AVAILABLE.

There was some smaller text on it, but Dan’s mind was stuck on “cash prize.” A cash prize? It was probably substantial. Maybe enough to help Dana pay for college! Maybe it would even fund four years of tuition!

“Hey!” Barked a stern voice.

Dan whipped his head around and spotted the silver-haired man and two very large thuggish men. He didn’t think twice before darting out of the place like a rabbit escaping a snare, and he didn’t stop running until he reached his back stoop.

He was still mulling over the boxing tournament as he grabbed his work apron from the coat rack in the kitchen, zoning out as Avi scolded him, half in English and half in Hebrew. 

Boxing, huh? How hard could that be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya didn't come to this story hoping for historical accuracy, cause I hate to break it to ya, but trying to keep everything to a certain time period makes my brain itch. So we're not gonna do that.
> 
> Also, the kids are all right. Promise. Danny has a LOT to learn if he thinks boxing is easy, tho.


	5. Chapter 5

As it turned out, boxing was a lot more complicated than Dan had imagined.

Over the next couple of days, Dan made himself get up after he heard Dana leave for the bus, getting dressed and sneaking out to the library to find whatever books he could on boxing. He’d take as many as he could carry to one of the big research tables at the end of the stacks and spread them out before him, trying to make his tired brain absorb as many facts as he could.

And then, he’d sneak over to the boxing gym, which he learned was called “The Theoretical Ninjas Club." What a stupid name.

His first day there, he was too chicken-shit to stay and watch, only stealing one of the posters and running home to stash it under his mattress before Avi and Debbie saw, but the next day when he went back, the poster had been replaced with a new one, so he figured it was fine.

The tournament was on September 13th, a Saturday, at seven o’clock in the evening. Luckily, on Saturdays, Avi gave him the day off, so he got to do whatever he wanted. That particular Saturday, he made sure Dana was going to be sleeping at a friend’s before he decided for sure he was going to go. 

He didn’t want her to know what he was doing. She’d worry.

He’d started using what he’d learned from the books and from watching the more experienced boxers through the glass, though he’d missed a few lessons due to booking it whenever Mr. Silver (that’s what he’d started calling the old dude, who was apparently the boss) went out of his office. Though practicing in the handicap stall in the library’s bathroom wasn’t ideal, it was all he could manage. That, and maybe a few practice jabs in his room before Avi called him back to the shop when his lunch break was over. (He’d had to wolf down a few of his lunches, to the dismay of his stomach, but it was worth it.)

The only other problem was the strict weight class the tournament called for.

PLEASE NOTE, the poster read, WE ONLY RECOGNIZE FOUR WEIGHT CLASSES: LIGHTWEIGHT, MIDDLEWEIGHT, HEAVYWEIGHT, AND SUPER HEAVYWEIGHT. ALL FIGHTERS MUST FIT INTO THESE CLASSES, OR WILL FACE DISQUALIFICATION AND/OR LOSS OF WINNINGS.

Dan had never particularly cared about his weight, nor had Dana, as they were both wiry and slender, and barring a trip to his parents’ private bathroom, the only other scales in the house were the freight scale in the back room and the produce scale by the cash register. 

Dan doubted the produce scale would work. Even if he could have, theoretically, squeezed his non-existent ass onto the slender plate of the suspended scale, he’d probably break it, and cost his father at least fifty dollars worth of repairs. So, the freight scale it was.

Dan stood before the large, flat scale. This was used to weigh boxes, not people, but it usually registered anything over eighty pounds. And Dan knew he was skinny, but hopefully not that skinny.

Hopefully.

In his head, he repeated the lightweight number in his head over and over, 132, 132, 132, like a chant at a football game, like if he wished hard enough, he could open his eyes, and magically make weight class. 132 was the lightest weight he was allowed to be in order to compete. 

Dan took a deep breath and stepped on the scale. He’d just had lunch, so he was bound to be at his heaviest now! His heart beat wildly in his chest as he adjusted the weights attached to the scale so it would give him the correct number, keeping an eye on the balance at the end of the number line, waiting for it to hover exactly in the center.

One hundred, and… Dan bit his lip. 

…twenty. A mere twelve pounds off.

Dan wanted to cry. Even if he ate every bite of his food over the next couple of days, he’d never make that weight in time for Saturday! Dan stepped off the scale with a groan, punching the nearest box in frustration. “Fuck,” he murmured. “Fuck!” He punched the box again. Something rattled on the metal shelf and clattered to the floor. Sighing, Dan stomped around the shelf to put it away.

It was a magnet. A rather big one, too, about the size and thickness of a hockey puck. It was quite heavy, too, a nice weight in his hands.

Dan remembered these. His father stocked a few of these heavy duty magnets for butchers and construction workers who used them to hold up heavy tools or slabs of meat.

As he tested the weight of it in his hand, Dan had an idea. He carefully scaled the side of the shelf, reaching into the box he’d been punching. Sure enough, he was able to fish out another magnet. Success!

Dan jumped off the shelf and put a magnet each into his two pockets. With baited breath, he stepped on the scale…

One-hundred and thirty-five pounds.

“Yes!” Dan cheered.

“Dan!” Avi called. “Did you find the, uh, eehh…flathead screwdriver yet?”

“Shit,” Dan murmured. He’d totally forgotten why he’d volunteered to go to the back room in the first place. “Coming!” He quickly rummaged around the spare desk until he found the screwdriver, booking it out to his father.

Now as long as he didn’t get caught cheating, everything was going to work out just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan's a poor kid. Of course he's gonna be underweight!
> 
> Let's hope he doesn't get caught...


	6. Chapter 6

The day of the tournament was upon him. Dan couldn’t help feeling nervous about it. Mostly because, even with a basic knowledge, he was still a new contender, and he had no idea what to expect from his fellow boxers.

But because he couldn’t talk to Dana, Debbie, or Avi about it, he had to keep it all bottled up inside, which only made his stomach twist with the anxiety that sat like a cannonball in his gut.

He thought about telling his parents, but they both had enough to worry about. Debbie was busy trying to ration out food and run her business to make extra money, and Avi, of course, had the grocery to run. Besides, they’d probably feel guilty if they found out that Dan wasn’t boxing for fun, and was trying to win prize money for Dana’s tuition. 

As much as his parents tried to show equal love to both himself and Dana, Dan knew that his little sister was the priority, and he couldn’t exactly blame his parents for that. He knew that he was a hopeless bum, destined to take on the family business for lack of anything better to do in his life. But Dana? Dana deserved to find someone to love, raise a family of her own, do the things Dan could only dream of doing.

He might never make it out of New York, but he was going to get her out, or die trying.

Dan had been trying to read up on boxing nutrition as well. It was better to have protein and light meals before a fight, but he couldn’t really control what came out of his mom’s kitchen. Growing up poor had taught him never to sneeze at a plate of food, because you never knew when you might get more. Dan had been lucky enough to always have a plate of food, even if sometimes, he went to bed hungry. He knew there were more unlucky families out there, so he never questioned the food he was given.

And today, Debbie was celebrating Saturday by serving chocolate chip pancakes.

Dan was the first one downstairs because Dana was washing her hair, and so he got to pull up a chair and watch Debbie piling warm pancakes onto a serving plate. He wet his lips; chocolate was rare because it tended to be a superfluous purchase. There must be good news to follow them.

“Morning, Dan!” Debbie greeted without turning around as Dan sat down.

“Morning, Debbie,” Dan yawned, rubbing his eyes. He reached for the syrup bottle on the table and began fiddling with it. “What’s the occasion?” Heavy pancakes were probably not the best breakfast, but the tournament wasn’t until seven, so as long as he made sure to have a light lunch, he’d be fine. 

“Your father is starting to see some profits from the new products he’s stocked for fall,” Debbie explained. “There are also plenty of people who want to grab the last of the summer items before they cycle out. It’s been very busy, as you know.”

Dan nodded. He’d had to restock several shelves in the middle of his shift a few times. But it was worth it, to see his father happy. Avi looked so nice when he smiled. Dan could see a lot of him in Dana; seeing both of them upset or worried always made his heart clench. “Want me to set the table, Doobs?”

“Yes. Thank you, Dan.”

Dan got up from the table, stretching, and went over to the pantry, fetching the plates and glasses first, then knives and forks. By the time he was setting out napkins, Dana came downstairs like a hurricane.

“Dana, come help your brother!” Debbie called. 

“Mmkay!” Dana skidded into the kitchen, humming. She looked so happy; this would be her first sleepover of the year. She rarely got to see her friends from school during the summer, because most of them were from well-to-do families who would migrate to cooler places while the city baked in the summer sun. 

Dan picked up on the tune Dana was humming, and the two siblings began to sing back and forth as they finished setting the table, bumping into each other playfully as they worked around each other. 

“Good morning, kids.”

Dan and Dana looked up at the familiar voice, beaming. “Abba!” Dana ran to him, hugging him tightly around his middle. Dan settled for rocking a chair in place, then casually waving. 

“Hey, pops.”

Dana let Avi go and sat down at the table. “I’m so excited to go to Monika’s tonight! It’s going to be so much fun!”

“What time are you, eeehh, going over there?” Avi asked as he sat down.

“I want to go about six, if Dan will walk me.” Dana sat down next to her brother, blinking big, pleading, puppy-dog eyes at him.

Dan groaned playfully, falling into a chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Fiiiine. I’ll walk you to your stupid friend’s house.” But he was grinning at her from under his mop of curly hair.

Dana beamed. “Thanks, Danny. I love you.”

“Now ya tell me.”

Dana punched his arm and Dan laughed, eagerly stabbing the first pancake with his fork. “Dibs!”

“Di—oh, fine, it’s yours,” Dana picked up her fork and took the next pancake, pouring syrup over his. Dan claimed the syrup next, and then grabbed another pancake. Might as well eat while food was available to him, after all.

“Are you doing anything tonight, Dan?” Debbie asked conversationally as she took a seat next to Avi.

Dan shrugged. “I might go see if there’s a game on at the bar.” He wasn’t technically old enough to go to a bar, but most of the bartenders in the area knew him, and would let him sit and watch the game on one of the TVs there.

Lucky that. It gave him a pretty good excuse. He didn’t know when the tournament was supposed to end.

And he’d been lucky so far that Avi hadn’t noticed the missing magnets. He was surprised about that; Avi kept meticulous notes, and always knew when something was missing or out of place. But it benefitted him, so he really didn’t question it, instead chalking it up as a favor done for him by a God he wasn’t sure he believed in.

Thankfully, the day went on as normal after that. Dan had managed to sneak home a book on boxing rules that had a faded cover, so no one would know what he was reading unless they looked really hard. He spent most of the day sitting on his bed while Dana did her homework at the desk. The deal was that she had to have her homework done before she went over to see Monika, because Sunday was usually for homework, but she wouldn’t be home until dinnertime tomorrow. 

The bedroom was quiet, the two siblings sharing a plate of sandwiches and each doing their respective thing. They’d always been close, of course, but over the years, it seemed like they could actually be friends, instead of just two people forced to like each other by nature of who their parents were. It was nice, to be able to have someone to talk to about anything.

Well…almost anything, anyway.

After about an hour, Dana sat back in her chair, stretching. Dan took another bite out of the turkey sandwich he held tight in his fist, turning the page of the old book carefully. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, the book in his lap, his back against the wall.

Dana turned to look at him. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” Dan swallowed, raising his head to give her a confused look. “No, I’m not mad at you. Why would you think that?”

“It’s just,” Dana shrugged, looking down at her lap, her hands wringing together. “You’ve been pretty quiet all day, and you’ve been avoiding me. Or, at least, sometimes I’ll come home, and you’re just so…lost in your head.” She frowned.

Dan lay his chin his hand, thinking he could follow her train of thought. As a stoner, he’d been spacey and evasive, trying to hide his bad habit from her. At that time, he was ashamed of himself, ashamed that he was addicted, and that pot was the only thing keeping him happy. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her about that. And she was afraid he was going back down that road.

“I’m sorry, Banana,” Dan said earnestly, closing his book and patting the spot next to him. Immediately, Dana got up from the chair and curled into the space beside him, her bare knees touching his thighs. “I’m just tired, I guess. I’ve been trying to get up early, so I can help Avi set up shop, and we’ve been so busy restocking…” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she lay her head on his, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry you thought I was ignoring you.”

“It’s okay,” Dana replied quietly, her hand fisting in the edge of her shirt. “I just get so scared…I can’t be around like in the summer, to protect you from your head.”

Dan’s heart warmed knowing that Dana was looking out for him, but all the same… “I’m fine, Dana. I promise.” He squeezed her to his side. “I’m getting used to being up early, so I’ll be okay from now on.” He hated having to lie to Dana, but that part, at least, was true. He was getting used to being awake in the early hours of the morning now…well, mostly.

Dana wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, making him burp, which caused her to laugh into his collarbone. “Can I sit next to you while I finish my work?”

Dan nodded, yawning. “Yeah, sure. I’m gonna lie down for a bit, though. Take a nap.”

“You all right?” Dana asked, sliding off the bed to get her things. 

Dan nodded, getting comfortable on the bed. He ended up lying on his back, his side pressed up against the wall, leaving Dana enough room to sit on his pillow beside him. Once Dana was in place, Dan reached up to poke her ribs, making her collapse with an annoyed sound. “If you fart on my pillow, I will kill you.”

“Oops, guess I’ll just have to fart now…”

“Don’t you dare…”

Dana made an exaggerated fart noise into her elbow. Dan shoved her…then groaned as she actually farted.

“Oh, my GOD, Dana! I have to actually SLEEP here tonight, y’know!”

“Sorry! It’s not my fault! Cheese makes me gassy.”

Dan snorted, flapping his arm lazily in her direction. “I still hate you.”

“Love you too, big brother.”

Dan shifted, rolling over to face the wall. He lay with his eyes closed, listening to Dana scribbling in her notebook, the tapping of her pencil as she thought about an answer, the frantic squeak of an eraser and then the flapping of her hand as she corrected her mistakes, the way she sucked on her lip when she was concentrating…

It reminded him that he really did want the best for her, not because it would benefit him in any way. Even if she turned tail and left as soon as she could, and never even said goodbye (which he knew would never happen anyway), he still wanted to do this for her. Because it would make her happy. 

He had to be careful not to make her worry anymore. She had enough on her plate as it was.

Dan ended up falling asleep dreaming of the boxing ring he’d be entering tonight. He couldn’t imagine exactly what it would be like, but he hoped he’d learned enough to get a decent amount of money.

It would all be for nothing if he went down in the first round.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sniffles* THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!
> 
> Sibling love, y'all. It's powerful stuff.
> 
> Shout out to my brother, who always looks after me, even if I don't do a lot of looking out for him back. His birthday is on Wednesday, and he's gonna be 22. I still think of him as being six in my head!


End file.
